Chapter 7

Knight had lost consciousness before they got him to Bolton's carriage and Carina feared that it would not be regained. He was on the opposite bench, lying at the oddest angle because he was too long for the seat. Her horse had been tied to the back, which made their travel torturously slow.

Carina dropped to her knees on the floor of the carriage and placed a hand against his brow. "He is so very pale."

"He has lost a good deal of blood."

"Will he die?" Her question was whispered in fear.

"We will send for the best surgeon in Bath to attend him," Bolton promised.

"What of the doctor who was present at the duel?"

"He is not the best," Bolton answered. "He also claimed a previous engagement."

Carina wanted to ask why he had agreed to attend if he wasn't going to remain to continue the care if someone was injured, but decided those reasons did not matter. What did was that Knight had been shot, was bleeding and unconscious, and needed a surgeon.

"This is my fault and if something worse happens, I will never forgive myself."

"You are in no way to blame. Clarkston brought this on himself."

"Knight did not," she reminded Bolton. "He only stood with his friend."

"Then I am to blame," Bolton murmured.

"Nay. You did not shoot him, but Clarkston."

"Not intentionally. Had that dog not run out and knocking into him, likely the pistol would have been aimed at me when it fired."

A shiver swept through her. Clarkston's shot had gone wild because of the dog, Bolton could have been the one bleeding on the seat instead of Knight, or possibly dead.

"Had I not stepped out of the Assembly Rooms, none of this would have happened."

"Women should not have to fear being alone," he ground out bitterly.

Carina brushed Felix's hair from his brow while noting that his white shirt and cravat were stained crimson. "So much blood," she murmured.

"Do you love him so much?" Bolton asked quietly.

Carina closed her eyes, which caused a tear to leak from the corner. "Si."

"Then why do you reject him?"

"He is not serious in his attentions. He is a scoundrel, rake and a charmer, much like you."

"Are you so certain?" Bolton asked.

"It does not matter," Carina sighed. "He cannot give me what I want."

"What would that be?"

"It is not important," she whispered.

Though Felix did not have the strength to lift his eyelids, he heard every word spoken between Bolton and Carina. They believed him unconscious and given the pain he suffered, especially when the carriage wheels found a rut in a road, he too wished he was oblivious. But also thankful that he wasn't or he would have not have heard Carina admit that she loved him.

Except she did not answer Bolton's last question, and Felix longed to know what she could want that he could not give her?

He'd move heaven and earth to grant her anything, if only he knew what it was.

The carriage came to a halt, and he nearly rolled from the seat. Carina placed her hand against his shoulder and hip to keep that from happening. If only she would remain near, but Felix knew that she'd be sent away from him so that the surgeon could see to his injuries.

The door of the carriage clicked and she was gone, but Felix could hear her from a distance calling for footmen to assist as well as Bolton's anxious voice mingled with hers that he was going for the surgeon.

Some hands were pulling and lifting him, then he was carried out of the carriage and up a flight of stairs, or so he assumed, when placed on a bed.

"You must remove his suitcoat, waistcoat, and shirt so that a surgeon can tend his wounds."

It was Carina who was giving instructions.

"You should leave miss."

He could only assume that it was a footman who wished to shield her from his naked chest.

"I have seen a man without his shirt and will not swoon. Do as I say!" she ordered.

When had Carina seen such? She was supposed to be a sheltered miss.

"I need hot water and towels. Now go and fetch them."

He'd never heard her as such—barking orders as if she were a general. Was it because she worried for him so much or would she behave this way for anyone?

"What is going on?"

"I do not have time to explain, Gaia."

"Has Knight been shot?"

"Yes. Your brother has gone for the surgeon."

Felix wanted to explain, but pain seared through his body, radiating from the wound as the footmen pulled at his clothing. They should just cut everything away as it would be far less painful than trying to maneuver his arms out of the sleeves.

"Bring me scissors," Carina commanded. "Rip his clothing if you have to, but cease moving him so much, as it only causes him to bleed more and is no doubt causing him more pain."

"He is unconscious," someone said.

"That does not mean you should be treating him as if he were nothing but a rag doll."

It was then that the footmen began ripping, tearing, and then cutting his clothing away. It still pained Felix but not as much as being moved about.

"Who shot him and why?" Lydell demanded.

"I will explain later," Carina answered. "Right now, we must see to his wound."

Soon his clothing was gone, and a cloth was pressed to his chest. "You will not die from this," Carina declared, as if she had such control.